


Initials

by LilTabasco



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Chiccolo - Freeform, F/M, fluffy family time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilTabasco/pseuds/LilTabasco
Summary: Chi Chi asks for a vacation and all she gets is a dumb rock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the Chiccolo Prompt: Vacation

“You brought us… to a rock.”

“It’s a very nice rock,” Piccolo said, voice defensive as he crossed his arms.

“Is it?” Chi Chi asked, her visor pressing her bangs down into her eyes as the sun bore down on her khaki capris and dark blue t-shirt. They were standing on top of some weird plateau that looked like every other plateau that Chi Chi had seen (which, in all fairness, weren’t that many) and looked like everything else in the nearby vicinity.

“I mean, I think it’s pretty neat,” Gohan offered, giving Piccolo a thumbs up. The teen rubbed at the back of his sunburnt neck, and gave it an appreciative once over. “I could probably bring Videl here for a date—d’you think she’d dig it?”

“Dig it?” Piccolo repeated.

“Date?” Chi Chi shrieked. “Excuse you?! No—no—no—I told you I don’t approve of this girl!” She whirled on her son, face red as the boy gave a sheepish glance to his step-father. It had obviously been thrown out in an attempt to distract Chi Chi. Piccolo gave him a nod, thankful for his son’s most gracious sacrifice. He mentally erected a statue in his honor. Nail and Kami snickered.

Chi Chi rattled on to Gohan, as Piccolo strode to the edge of the plateau, feeling the winds whip out across the plains, wafting up to his nostrils. Being out in the wilderness like this almost made him feel like he was young once more. A person with no purpose. A thing with no identity, just residing, unsure of his own existence. Was he his sire, a whole person…?

It was hard to have high reaching thoughts of his soulful journey when his wife’s screeching voice could drown out a stampede of dinosaurs.

“Chi Chi,” Piccolo snarled. “Leave him be. You know he’s dating Videl—there’s nothing to be done.”

“Oh, don’t you start with me,” Chi Chi retorted, her jaw jutting in a way that he loved as she crossed her arms. Her wide hips shifted, jutting out as she glared at him. “I asked for a vacation and you bring us to a dumb rock!”

“A very nice rock,” Piccolo corrected.

“A rock is a rock to me.” The woman huffed, frown still in place. He watched the wind kick up, turning her cheeks a dusty pink.

“Sometimes there’s special things about them, however.” Piccolo strode forward, and held his hand out. Chi Chi blinked slowly, before sliding her hand into Piccolo’s. He inwardly delighted at the warmth of her. His species maintained such a cold temperature, regardless of outside influences, yet for some reason he could always feel her. Even when she wasn’t his to hold, he’d always noticed her heat. 

When she’d touched him through his training gear, when she’d offered him drinks and her fingers had cradled the cup…

He pulled her to him, her chest aligning against his abdomen as he lifted off the ground. Chi Chi’s visor pressed uncomfortably against his chest, but he found he didn’t care as they floated backwards, dust swirling beneath their feet. He said nothing to Gohan, knowing that the boy would follow them.

As they passed the lip of the plateau, Piccolo descended, and Chi Chi craned her neck to turn around. Piccolo made sure he kept her anchored, his large arms curled around the small of her back as he held her close. If she fell from this height—

There were so many moments when he remembered how frail humans could be.

“What are those weird markings?” Piccolo didn’t need to see her face to know that her brow was puckered, and her chin was out, lips curling upwards. He often heard Bulma tease her for the face, claiming it was unattractive and she’d get stuck that way. Piccolo never told her, but he didn’t see the problem with it—the shapes, the emotions… they were all Chi Chi, and he didn’t understand how anyone could say that she was ugly.

“These are my claw marks,” Piccolo said calmly, extending his free hand so he could brush his fingers against the jagged lines. Gohan was beside them, doing a similar action with a look of awe on his face. “Before I came to face Goku, and after, I spent a lot of time here.” His voice was a deep rumble, and even though this hadn’t been his home in a long time, he still felt a sense of longing. “When I was practicing my flying, I used this as a post to mark my progress. I used it to sharpen them, as well. It was a familiar landmark.”

Chi Chi was silent, staring at the wall of memories.

Piccolo let his hand drop from the marks, instead opting to strengthen his hold on Chi Chi. The sheer amount of recollections that floated to him were dizzying. Late nights that he spent underneath the moon, wondering who or what he was. He remembered staring into a crackling fire, trying to talk to himself, trying to figure out if his father was still there, and what he should say. And what he told no one—that many of those nights were spent as a small hatchling, tears pooling up around his lids as he cursed the fact that he’d hatched. Hatched for one driving purpose that he couldn’t escape. Inevitable.

He thought of how he’d always had his life planned for him, and how everything had taken such a drastic turn. He was bred to kill Son Goku—not to love. Not to hold a woman in his arms each night, and know that it was to last. Not to raise two sons that may have not been his, but should have been, and would have been if he’d had the resources to do so.

In his arms, Chi Chi shifted, lifting her eyes to his.

“You said you used it as a landmark?” Chi Chi asked, and Piccolo gave a slow, somber nod. “I dunno how the hell you did that—it’s the exact same!” She was grinning and it was infectious, as Piccolo allowed a small one to grace his own features. It was moments like these that he was grateful for his wife’s peculiarities. He didn’t want sad memories here, not with her clinging to him, and Gohan floating somewhere up above.

Chi Chi glanced up to her son, who seemed thoroughly preoccupied with something. She took the opportunity to curl her fingers up in his weighted pads, and pull herself up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She lingered longer than he normally would have allowed, but when she was looking at him like that, with soft brown eyes and more love than any person should be able to hold—

“Sorry I made fun of your dumb rock,” she murmured, and Piccolo snorted, wrinkling his nose up at her.

“Woman, if I was ever stupid enough to count on your tact, then I deserve to get my feelings hurt.” He gave her a toothy grin, the lopsided ones that he knew she loved. He could practically see her melt at the sight of it—she claimed it had something to do with a “bad boy charm”, whatever the hell that meant.

“Hey!” Gohan called, and Piccolo ascended to the boy’s level. “I decided to add some new memories of our own.” Piccolo glanced to where Gohan had been busily working at the top of the plateau, and felt as if an egg were caught in his throat.

The boy had taken the time to carve in P & C, and Piccolo couldn’t find it in him to talk. Gohan was grinning, patting the rock.

“I figure, whenever I get married, I think I’ll bring ‘em here and put our initials, too.” Gohan cocked his head to the side, and Piccolo was reminded that he had the same eyes as his mother—so brown and loving. “A family tradition.”

Piccolo would have cried had he been someone else. As it was, he merely cleared his throat, and tried to hide the fact that his ears were a little purple. “You’re going to do whatever you want,” he grunted, voice a little hoarse. “Unfortunately with your genetics, it was inevitable.”

Chi Chi cooed, and hugged him tightly, pressing her face into his chest. “Piccolo! That’s the sweetest you’ve ever been!” her muffled voice cried, and Piccolo rolled his eyes, just as Gohan barreled into him. He wobbled in the air as he kept his clutch on Chi Chi, his eyes wide and bugged out as he was quickly encompassed by a grown ass Saiyan.

“You two are morons!” Piccolo snarled, but he could feel his heart practically combusting.

“We love you, too, Pickle,” Gohan mumbled, and he heard Chi Chi’s consent.

He cast his eyes heavenward, and, for once in his life, thanked Goku.


End file.
